Uncertainty: The 67th Hunger Games
by RatInvasion
Summary: Only when they enter the Arena do they realise how dreadful the world really is. Don't take your future for granted. There is no certitude in tomorrow. The only certainty in life is death itself. Collaboration with Josephm611. SYOT CLOSED. Weekly updates.
1. Prologue 1

_**A/N Good day and welcome! The name's RatInvasion, and I'm proud to present you my first multi-chapter fanfiction which also happens to be a collaboration! The first prologue was written by my incredible co-author. So, I'll shut up for now and give him the spotlight. See ya in the next chapter!**_

 **A/N Hello! Josephm611 here, and welcome to the collab SYOT Uncertainty with RatInvasion. The rules will be below this Prologue, and the form will be on both of our profiles.**

 **Let's begin!**

* * *

 _ **Prologue 1**_

Eutropius Telemonium recklessly ran through the crowd at the subway station at Diamond Avenue, pushing aside others in a devil-may-care dash for the train rails. He didn't he much time left.

He was only a few hundred feet away when he heard the train pulling in. So close! But the people around him seemed to be moving as slow as snails. Ugh! In a last-ditch effort, he plowed through the people in the way. Twenty feet. The bell began to ring. Ten feet. The doors began to blink. Five feet. Now or never. He lunged, holding his hat on his head with his left hand, and barely made it in as the doors closed. People around him gave him strange looks, but he didn't care. He was glad to be on. He brushed off his canary yellow shirt and sat down.

 _Only a few more years,_ he thought. Then he wouldn't have to ride the subway because he'd have his own car. But he was just out of college, and the subway was cheap. Besides, it went right up to the CBN, the Capitol Broadcasting Network, and that would be convenient. As Caesar Flickerman's newest assistant, he couldn't afford to be late. Literally. He went over the equation in his head, reminding himself how important this situation was.

Tardy + Irresponsible = No Job + No Money

No money would mean going into debt, and going into to debt... He tried not to think about that.

The train began to slow, and it was his stop. He moved towards the doors. As soon as the door were open, he was off again, sometimes weaving around the people but often crashing. Soon, he was standing before the door to the prep rooms of the CBN. He took a moment to straighten his hat and his coat. Done. He took a deep breath and entered the room. The secretary was there with a clipboard with a list of things to do. Being his first year, he was given a bit of help. On the list, at the bottom, were the words, "May the odds be ever in your favor. Welcome to the team :) -Caesar."

How nice. He scanned the list and then checked his watch. 12 hours left. Time to get to work.

* * *

 **A/N So before you submit, please read the rules. Just do it.**

 **1\. PM ONLY. NO REVIEWS WILL BE ACCEPTED. EVER. PERIOD. Also, its be nice if you title the PM with the name, gender, and District. It makes searching through the PM inbox a lot easier. You can send it to me (Josephm611) or to Rat Invasion.**

 **2\. You can submit as many as you want! There's a catch; we will accept no more than two tributes from each submitter. If there are enough, only one or even none might make it in.**

 **3\. This may not qualify as a rule, but if you'll submit, please review? Even one-liners are okay if necessary. Reviews are how we know that you're reading, and we may think twice before killing your tribute. Beside, if you won't read it, why submit?**

 **4\. This may sound obvious, but COMPLETE THE FORM. All of it. Even the faceclaim. Read the form, we have some guidelines and tips. If you have trouble with faceclaims, read the tips BEFORE creating your tribute.**

 **5\. Finally, remember that we will very likely tweak your creation. It's necessary to create a cohesive story. Don't whine.**

 **The form will be on our profiles.**

 **Thanks in advance!**

 **-Josephm611**


	2. Prologue 2

**_A/N: Welcome back to_** _Uncertainty: The 67th Hunger Games **!** **RatInvasion here, and I brought you the second prologue. First off, we got a couple of good submissions so far; there are some popular districts, like District 7 among the males and District 1 among the females, but there are others which aren't so. Keep submitting, my dears; the deadline is 14th of October, and if it wasn't obvious enough until now, we don't do reservations!**_

 _ **Josephm611 and I are determined to complete this SYOT. Therefor, let us move on to...**_

* * *

 ** _Prologue 2_**

The Platinum Street was silent. Well, relatively. The Vermellion mansion was sparkling in the darkness. Blue, green, red and yellow lights illuminated the house from the inside and the outside alike. The guests were gathered in small groups, their peppy chatter and laughter only a jangle over the soft music of the orchestra. The party could be delineated as a blur of colors and voices.

The head of the Vermellion household, Cnaeus Vermellion, was a man in his prime. As the owner of a renowned fashion company and a mansion in the heart of the Capitol; has was fairly popular. All the woman wanted to be _with_ him. All the man wanted to be _like_ him. His life was ideal; he himself the definition of perfection.

Cnaeus stood in the far corner of the ballroom, with a half-empty glass in his hand, his eyes scanning trough the crowd. The wealthy and the popular were all here. Technically, he invited only a handful of people and their immediate family members. But as the night proceeded, everyone brought a friend or an acquaintance, and soon Cnaeus' mansion was full with people he barely knew. A heavy sigh escaped the man's lips. His guests _really_ liked to eat. He was lucky the cooks made extra rations of food, just in case.

"Cnaeus, my dear friend!" The high pitched feminine voice made the man jump in surprise. "This place is marvelous!"

"But not as amazing as your outfit, Hilaria" Cnaeus smirked at her, the young woman blushing a deep shade of red. Hilaria was one of the few people whom Cnaeus actually invited. She was a good friend of his; but he couldn't just ignore the slight attraction between the two of them.

"Why, thank you! It's so good to loosen up before another Game."

The 67th Hunger Games were near. This time of the year was something special. Like the so-called _Christmas_ holiday from the past; before Panem came to be. The Capitol was, once again, going to be thrilled with the arrival of the 24 tributes. The bettings were going to start the moment they are reaped, and a few selected are going to sponsor the tributes with the highest odds.

Cnaeus' felt butterflies in his stomach as his usual smirk became even wider. _He_ was one of them. And he was certainly looking forward to decide a tribute's fate with his wealth.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Let us know your honest opinion!**_

 _ **~ RatInvasion**_


	3. Prologue 3

**A/N Joseph here! This prologue marks (well, was supposed to mark ) the closing of the submissions! Yay! After this, Ratty and I will spend some time planning this out, so we may be gone for a week or two. But the story will go on! Enjoy!**

 **I just realized that "subway" in the UK has a different meaning than it does in the US. When I say subway, I'm referring to an underground electric railroad/train underneath a city that's used for transportation, not a pedestrian tunnel.**

* * *

 _ **Prologue 3**_

Eutropius scanned his to-do list. Another night on the job.

"Tell Lauria to blah blah blah... Get Caesar's suit blah blah blah... Tell Janus to arrange a meeting with Mr. Daclation..." he mumbled, reading the list, "Check, Been there done that, done, done, done."

He took a deep breath, and his eyes flickered to the final item on the list. "Call Materius and make sure Caesar's ride is on time." He sighed happily and rubbed his hands together. The annual party at Caesar's palace, always held the night before the escorts left for those horrible, dirty districts. He couldn't imagine how the poor district citizens lived, without parties and fashion and convenience. But somehow they did, and he was glad of it. He picked up his work phone and dialed Materius, Caesar's personal driver.

"Hello?" came a voice from the other end, "This is Materius."

"Hello, the is Eutropius, Caesar's assistant," he said, beaming with pride, "I'm calling to make sure that Caesar's ride is on time."

"I can assure you that it will be. I'll be there in 10 minutes."

"Good. Goodbye."

Eutropius still wore that cheesy smile after he ended the call. He felt so... in control. Back in school, everyone looked down on him for trying different styles. Now, no one dared do that. Heck, he could even start his own trends.

Ten minutes later, Caesar was on his way to the party. Eutropius, however, was not as fortunate. He knew he should be content, since only the elite were invited, but he had to arrange his own transportation. He sighed. Back to the subway.

As he waited for the train, he felt fortunate to have been born in this day and age. He remembered being told that in the early 21st century, subway cars moved at around 70 miles an hour. Now, they were closer to 100 mph. The only reason they didn't go faster was safety.

The train whooshed into the station, and Eutropius was pushing his way into the station the moment the doors opened. He didn't find a seat, but he didn't care. He was giddy with excitement at the thought of attending this party, and the ride barely registered before he was getting off. He hurried to Caesar's mansion and entered through the back, as he had been told. Once he opened the door, he was assaulted by the sound of music and the smell of.. oh! the most expensive delights. He entered the main hall, where tables were set up with food and people were dancing. He rubbed his hands eagerly and was about to start getting food when he heard his name.

"Eutropius!" Caesar called. Eutropius turned around to find Caesar coming towards him, leading another man. "I want you to meet Cnaeus Vermellion."

"The Cnaeus Vermellion?" Eutropius gasped.

"The one and only," Cnaeus replied.

"Wow.. sir... it's.. it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Eutropius here has been very helpful," Caesar explained.

"I'm sure he has," the man said.

Eutropius couldn't believe his ears. Caesar was complimenting him. The one and only Caesar Flickerman was complimenting him! And introducing him to one of the richest men in the Capitol! He knew that his life had forever changed.

* * *

 **A/N So here are the accepted tributes! Congratulations to you if you made it in, and I'm sorry if yours didn't.**

 **The blog is up! If you only gave a name for the faceclaim, I chose the picture. PM or email me if you have a specific picture in mind, I can always change it.**

 **Blog! (Remove the spaces): uncertainty67thg. blogspot. com**

 **This blog was a TON of work. Blog review please? Or at least a chart?**

 **Definitions:**

 **Blog Review- A review in which you give your opinion on all the tributes on the blog.**

 **Chart- Sorts the tributes by how much the reviewer likes them.**

 **Accepted Tributes:**

 **D1: Laelia Loreal and Jasper Leo**

 **D2: Drusa Predator and Alabaster Prime**

 **D3: Delta Bishop annd Dayta Telle**

 **D4: Elle McNamara and Ansel Gwilym**

 **D5: Shantelle Kelvin and Ryder Light**

 **D6: Aiko Byte and Dash Davidson**

 **D7: Sylvian Ahrens and Tristan Young**

 **D8: Veronica Lisle and Patch Weave**

 **D9: Quinoa Farro and Graan Sepere**

 **D10: Sable Merona and Talon Coactus**

 **D11: Zinnia Crisly and Gerald Smith**

 **D12: Ember Cowden and Darc Hale**

 **See y'all when we start introducing the tributes.**

 **-Josephm611**


	4. Chapter One

_**A/N: Welcome back! Ratty here, and here we are with a brand new chapter. I would like to seize the moment and thank all of you for submitting. We are really sorry if you did not make it in, but keep your eyes open while reading and you might find a surprise! ;)**_

 **A/N: Hello! Joseph here. If you don't know, I will be writing all the boys, and Ratty will be writing for all the girls. Thanks in advance for the reviews! :P**

* * *

 _ **Chapter One**_

* * *

 ** _Alabastor "Aly" Prime, District Two Male Citizen, 18 Years Old_**

 _One week before the Reaping_

Whack. I finish my work with the dummy and strep out of the room. Done. My test. I was near the bottom of the list, so the results should be out in a few hours. I wipe the sweat off of my forehead–and the hair out of my eyes–and sit down to wait beside my friend Czar.

"Hey," he says, "How'd it go?"

"I guess it was good. Hope it was good enough."

"Don't worry about it."

They call his name over the speakers.

"Well, it's my turn now. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," I call after him as he enters the room.

I sit back and wait for him to finish. There aren't many of us left; maybe about ten other candidates are sitting around, waiting for their turn. Everyone else is done and gone. Bored, I listen to the conversations around me.

"I'm so nervous," one says.

"How much longer?" says someone from the other side of the room.

"I'm pretty sure he's gonna be chosen. He always is. His dad's the mayor, so duh."

"What!" I say, standing up. Everyone stares. I sit back down, a little sheepishly. I can't stand it. If I get chosen, it won't be because of my dad. Why is it always about him. When I help an older man carry his things. _Of course, he's the mayor's son, he's supposed to be helpful._ When I get 100 on a test _. Of course, he's the mayor's son, he's supposed to be smart._ When I train for hours a da _y. Of course, he's the mayor's son, he's supposed to be dedicated._ I can almost here what they'll say if I get chosen.

 _Of course, he's the mayor's son. He's favored._

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I look up to see Czar.

"Ready to go?" he says.

"Yeah, sure."

I'm standing in the huge auditorium at the Training Center. The head trainer is standing up on the stage, and she holds two envelopes, each holding the ten names chosen by the panel of judges, aka the Victors. Every one of those Ten are qualified for the final dash to the stage on Reaping Day . Sonya, standing beside me, squeezes my hand.

"I hope you get chosen," she says.

"Yeah."

"One more year, and then it's my turn to go."

"Yeah."

"It's about to start."

"Yeah."

She looks at me. "Can't you say anything other than 'yeah'?"

"Yeah," I say, winking at her. She pokes me. I tickle her back, and she erupts in laughter. Quite a few people turn to stare at us. The head trainer begins to test the microphone, and the crowd falls silent.

"Thank you for gathering here for this year's possible tributes! We have chosen the best of this year's aspiring Victors, and we honor their strength, their loyalty, and their courage. Let's begin! As we call your name, please come to the front."

She tears the first envelope, holing the girls.

"Adriana Jackson." A girl near the front whoops and steps forward.

"Drusa Predator." A scary, calm girl strides forward.

"Hera Vanadius." She lists the names, one by one, and one by one, the girls step up to the stage.

"Now for the men." She tears the second envelope. "Nero Dean." I know him. Such an annoying, proud idiot. But he's strong, and we all know it.

"Hadrian Maximus." Another one of those. She calls out the names, and my name still hasn't appeared. What? There's only one name left. Someone rubs me on my back.

"Relax," Sonya whispers. I take a deep breath.

The trainer reads the last name. "Alabastor Prime."

I resist the urge to hoot and shout, and shaking with excitement, I push through the crowd. Everything feels like a blur. I'm now eligible to volunteer for the Hunger Games. The greatest honor possible. They sing the anthem, and them we are dismissed. The moment I step off the stage, I'm mobbed by my parents, Sonya, and Czar.

"You did it!"

"So proud of you!"

"First victor in the family!"

Another trainer comes by and escorts me to a congratulatory meeting, and I wave goodbye and tell them that I'll be back soon. When I step into the room, I see that everyone else is already here. One looks at me skeptically. I fight the urge to throttle him. Thaddeus, our first trained Victor, stands at the front of the room. I take a seat in the back. He clears his throat.

"I know you are all very excited," he says, "But I am here to remind you of one thing."

He looks at every one of us.

"You are young. You are strong. You are trained. But you are not wise or experienced. This is why I'm here." He goes on to talk about his Games, which were known for the intricate system of traps set by Gamemakers. He and his partner hated each other, but they worked together until the end. He starts to conclude his speech.

"What I want you to remember, is that it doesn't matter who your partner turns out to be. It doesn't matter what you feel about all this. What does matter is bringing pride to our district, and to show the rebels the rewards of obedience." I nod, as do many others. He dismisses us, and I start on my way home.

As I walk, I listen to the people as I pass. I hear someone say something about luck. A mother is scolding a boy.

"There's the rich pretty boy."

Huh? I see two boys that didn't get picked standing in a corner, talking.

"He doesn't deserve to be picked. Of course he is though. His father gets him everything. He can anything he want. Anytime. Such a spoiled brat."

"I know, right. We should've been picked."

"I'm pretty sure I could take him down by myself."

I rush at him. "What did you say?" I demand, holding him against the wall. He stares me straight in the eyes. He doesn't answer. "Don't you dare say that," I warn. "You have no idea what you're talking about. Absolutely NO idea. So shut your mouth."

"Fine, fine," he mumbles. I can just hear Sonya telling me to get calmed down. Deep breath. Deep breath. I let the boy go and stomp off. Thaddeus was wrong. There's more to it than just glory to District Two.

People will see me for me.

* * *

 ** _Laelia Loreal, District One Female Citizen, 18 Years Old_**

 _One week before the Reaping._

The morning sun warms my skin as I skip down on the wide streets of my home district. The road from our home to the Training Academy has never felt so long before. Normally, I would walk with my brothers; Joy and Aurumn; but today is different. So different from my day-to-day life.

Today marks one week before the Reaping; which means that the Academy will hold a tournament for the 17 and 18 year olds. We will be put against each other to fight until one of us is unable to compete. By the end of the day, only one boy and one girl will be left standing. The future volunteers. The future tributes.

A wide smile appears on my lips as I see my friend Alexia stepping out of her front door. I wait for her to close the distance between us.

"Morning!"

"Good morning," she says softly. "Did you sleep well?"

I smile at her politeness, but answer her question. "Relatively."

After this we talk about the most trivial things in the world until we arrive at our destination. Many people stand in front of the building, waiting eagerly to show their skills and dedication to the jurymen. I scan the crowd with my eyes, smiling and waving in the direction of the familiar faces until I find a group of teens gathered together a little further away. I grin at the sight of our friends. I grab Alexia's hand and drag her behind me.

"Hey guys!" I shout, earning a couple of stares in the process. I was only a couple of meters away from the group, when I ran full force in a wall. If it wasn't for Alexia behind me, I would've fallen on my butt. At a second look though, it wasn't much of a wall, more like a thin boy with a nose piercing, maybe a year younger then me. I hang my head with embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to—"

"Laelia! Alexia! I thought you're not going to come and leave us by ourselves!" From the corner of my eyes, I see a hand grabbing me and Alexia by the arm, and dragging us away before I could embarrass myself further. I peek over my shoulder, only to see that the boy with the piercing has already left. God. So that means I was apologising to no one in particular…

"Seriously, next time I'm not going to save you from yourself!"

"W-we are really sorry, Iunia!" Alexia shutters before I even have the chance to open my mouth. With a smooth motion of her hand Iunia dismisses us.

"Don't mention it."

The minutes pass by slowly after that. Everyone is on the edge, some of us are doing warm ups, the others decide to ignore their nervousness by talking, stopping only when they are out of air. After a couple of minutes I also make up my mind and start doing warm ups along with Alexia and Iunia, while the others gossip.

"You know, I heard that in District Two, the tributes are chosen differently."

"Really?"

"Yeah! There is no tournament. They only show what they are capable of; you know, like a training session, only they are evaluated. The 10 male and 10 female with the highest scores get to volunteer on Reaping day. And guess what-"

I try and ignore their conversation. Instead, I turn towards Iunia.

"Hey, Iunia."

"Hm?" She turns towards me while scratching her arms above her head.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

"Who was that guy I just run into? He seemed… How should I put it?"

"Strange?" Iunia raises an elegant eyebrow and I nod. "His name is Jasper Leo, my neighbor. And trust me, you don't want to meet him a second time…" Iunia stops with her warm ups, and crosses her arms across her chest. I can't help, but notice the sudden change in her mood.

"Let me guess, not on the best terms?"

"Nope," she says. "Here's an advice, though. Try and avoid his siblings."

I can't help but laugh at her antics. Just as I am about to ask her why, when suddenly the Academy's front door opens, and a tall, board shouldered woman comes forward, with a sheet of paper in her hand. The moment I see her, I instantly forget about my conversation with Iunia.

"Welcome, future tributes of District One!" the woman starts. "My name is Erinite Chartreuse, and I was given the task to supervise you during the tournament. The first match among the males will be between…" She stops and reads the two names from her sheet.

"Jasper Leo and Zircon Ultramarine." The two boys make their way to the women, and stop beside her, then she proceeds to read the name of the first two females to compete.

"Alexia Royal and Amethyst Dove." I turn my head in the direction of Alexia and silently wish her good luck, before she walks up to Erinite. Moments later, the board shouldered woman disappears in the Academy with the four teens following her. I can't help, but stare after them and wonder what exactly is happening there.

Half an hour later, Iunia is called along with a Julia Diamante named girl. And all too soon, I hear my name. "Laelia Loreal and Rose Ariana Pepperhill."

I make my way towards Erinite and follow her in the building. We enter the Training room, and my match begins. And I do what I was taught all those long years.

I attack. I fight. _With the intent of killing._


	5. Chapter Two

**Bold -** Joseph  
 _ **Bold and Italic -**_ Ratty

* * *

 **A/N Hello! Yes, not slow updates. To be perfectly honest, the reason why the previous chapter was up so quickly was because we need to get a feel of the characters before we decide who lives and who dies.**

 _ **A/N And that is going to be a tough decision, indeed.**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Two**_

* * *

 _ **Shantelle Kelvin, District Five Female Citizen, 13 Years Old**_

 _Six days before the Reaping._

I lean against the front window of my family's shop; my eyes scanning the dark Town Square as I inwardly yawn. We've closed a good 15 minutes ago, and I am supposed to mop up the floor. But I'm tired. So tired that my eyelids are closing against my will and it feels as if my legs will melt away any second now. But I'm not surprised. Of course I'm tired if I spent 7 hours in school, 4 in my part time job, and another 3 helping in my parent's store.

Our shop is fairly popular. We make good profit every day. If I told someone how beneficial this business was, they would never guess what we sell. Traditional soaps aren't sought in our district, but our soap is way different. The key is the surprise component we add without the knowing of the Peacekeepers. If they knew we were using morphling for soap making, they'd eliminate us for good... In reality, I'm not supposed to know about this little secret. My parents try to hide it from me, but to no avail. I'm no fool.

I stretch my back, and force myself to continue with my work; carefully avoiding the shelves with the precious product and ignoring the characteristic smell of the drug. I don't even notice when someone hurriedly approaches me.

„Hey, Shanty!" I jump in surprise at the pipping voice, and spin around. My sister, Juliette, is standing there in all her prime; a cattish grin on her face. „You did such a great job today. The floor is shining like never before!"

At a loss of words, I gape at her. I don't even know when was the last time she said something like that to me. Suddenly, there is a warm feeling in my heart, and I find myself smiling at her.

„Th-thanks."

„Oh, you're welcome!" Juliette tilts her head to the side giving me her renowned grin; the warmth from my heart making it's way to my cheeks. „Say, Shanty... Since you did an awesome job moping the floor, would you mind doing my shift too tomorrow, and the day after that?" I recoil at her sudden quest. „And maybe the whole week? You're not too _tired_ , are you?" she asks, sneering at me. Not waiting for my answer, she turns around and dissapeares around the counter with a brief ‚ _You're the best!'_.

I stand there the warm feeling long gone, being replaced by a cold numbness. I still can't belive my sister's actions. Did I understand her correctly? Doing her work? But that means double shifts for me in our store! And the additional hours in my part time job...

I feel the tears welling up in my eyes. I'm tired as it is. I don't know what I'm going to do... I sigh, and wipe away the salty liquid from my face.

I force myself to turn back to my current task. My hands are trembeling as I put away the mop in the far corner of the store, and make sure that the windows and the front door are closed. Then, I make my way to the back. Stepping out in the cold night, a shiver runs down my spine. I quickly lock the backdoor.

Looking around the darkness, I thank whoever is up there, that my home is only a couple of yards away. I don't want to spend any more time then nececarry out here, so I hurry home.

* * *

The next morning I wake with a start. My eyes are hurting, and my head is spinning like crazy. With a sigh, I sit up on my bed and look around the room. Juliette's bed is empty. I'm positive that she is in the kitchen eating breakfast.

I yawn as I dress in my usual clothing.

 _„Whaaa!"_

Instinctively, I turn my head towards m door. The sound of my baby brother crying makes me smile for some reason.

I open the door, and make my way to our small kitchen. Juliette is hovering over her omlette; my father, Ranger, is standing in front of our rusty stove, most likely preparing my breakfast; and my mother is simply sitting by the table, holding my baby brother in her hands, but not making any attempt at calming him down. I shake my head.

„Good morning," I say softly. I hear my father mumble something, but other then that, no one says a word.

I walk up to my mother and pat her on the shoulder. She looks up at me, her light brown eyes blank. I press my lips in a thin line. She is under the effect of the morphling... Carefully, I take the little package from her hands.

„Sh... It's okay, Jazz. I'm here." I rock him softly and start humming a lullaby. He is asleep in a matter of minutes.

„You're amazing, Shantelle."

I look up at my dad, a hint of a smile on the corner of his lips. I nod, and hand Jazz back to mom. Even though she is addicted to that stupid drug, she still deserves to hold her own child.

I hear Juliette cough behind me meaningfully.

„Wonderful." She rolles her eyes. „Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to meet up with my friends before school." Juliette stands up, leaving her dirty dish on the table and leaves the kitchen. „Oh, and Shanty! Don't forget to do my shift too today, 'kay?" We only hear the front door close, and she is gone.

I glup. I almost forgot about that.

„That girl..." My father sighs, and returns his attention to my breakfast.

I'll need to eat well today. Otherwise I won't be able to go through with so much work...

* * *

 ** _Dash Davidson, District Six Male Citizen, 18 Years Old_**

 _Five days before the Reaping_

I tighten the last nut, making sure that the pieces are fastened securely. I sigh and smile, knowing that I'm done for the day. And not any day. Today is payday. I hear footsteps behind me. I immediately whirl around and tighten my grip on the wrench.

"Relax, it's just me," my boss says. I take a deep breath. He looks over the car I've been working on. "This is just what I expected, high quality work. The mayor will be pleased. Good job."

I nod and try to speak. "T-thank you. Thank you sir," I say, the words coming out too quickly. Curses. He smiles.

"Can you come back tomorrow and give it a good painting?"

"Y-yes sir."

"Good. Now how much do I owe you… 50 dollars sound about right?"

"Fifty?! I mean, sir, I-, I-, It's usually 40."

"You deserve more. I don't trust anyone other than you working on these projects, and you do an amazing job."

"Really!? Thank you, thank you, sir!"

"It's no problem. You earned it. Oh, I almost forgot. My wife made some bread and wanted me to give it to your mother. Think of it as an extra Reaping bonus."

"Thank you, sir."

"By the way, how is she doing?"

"She's doing a lot better, sir. She doesn't cough blood anymore, and the fever's gone too."

"Good, good. Then I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodbye, sir. Thank you so much!"

I put the few tools I own, put them in my pocket, and leave the place with a big smile on my face. Fifty dollars! Fifty! I hear the clank of metal against metal. I spin around, my hand reaching for the wrench. A black cat jumps out of a pile of scrap metal. Whew.

I chuckle lightly. What was I thinking? This is the decent part of District Six. Nothing happens here. I hear another clank, and I turn around. That cat again.

As I walk through the market, I look at all the vendors. We could use some vegetables; we haven't had any fresh ones in weeks. I stop at the cheapest one and buy a bunch with three precious dollars.

Soon, I smell the familiar smell of burning rubber. This is the District Six that everyone knows. Most of the District doesn't have street fights, morphling dealers, and criminals, but this is the section that we're known for. I take the money and hide it behind my belt, and I cover the food with my jacket. There always might be robbers lurking behind the corner ready to attack me.

A footstep startles me, and I quickly look in the direction of the noise. I'm relieved to see Old Harley, the beggar that always wanders the slums, looking for a bite to eat. Maybe I could give him a bit of bread.

All of a sudden, I hear the sound of running, coming from behind me. I whirl around to see two dusty, dirty men, coming down on me. One of them has a knife. I don't have time to think before I'm running as fast as I can. I can't go straight home, because I can't let them see where I live, but I also can't run forever. I weave through narrow alleys and run-down buildings and duck behind a pile of old tires.

I hear the two men coming down my alley. After they go by, I run in the other direction and hope they haven't noticed. Shouts from behind tell me that me that they're still on my trail. I crane my head to see, but when I turn back around, I realize that I'm faced by three solid walls on each side. I'm in a dead end. I turn around to see that the two are rapidly approaching. I reach into the inside of my heavy coat and pull out my wrench. If I can't run, then I'll have to fight.

When they get close enough, I lash out, swinging blindly at the armed bandit. The other kicks me in the groin, and I almost double over from the pain. I can't stop now. I have to keep going. I keep swinging, and soon, I feel the sound of metal against metal. The knife goes flying out of his hand. My wrench lands a hit on something, and on of the men collapses, unconscious.

The remaining one looks around and sees that the bread and vegetables have landed on the ground nearby. He runs for them, scoops them up, and begins to run. No. I can't let him take the fruit of MY hard work. I run, sprinting as fast as I can, and tackle him. He fall to the ground, and I swing again and again. When he stops struggling, I look down at him. His nose is broken, and blood is gushing from it. Some of his teeth have been knocked out. I pick up the now-compacted bread and the dirty ragged lettuce. I'll have to make do with it. Wasting food is not something I can afford.

I stand up and start going home.


	6. Chapter Three

**Bold** \- Joseph  
 _ **Bold and Italic -**_ Ratty

* * *

 **A/N I'm so sorry to Graan's submitter that we listed him wrong. His name on the top of the form was Granne, but it must have been a typo or something. I've changed it on the blog, and I'm very sorry. Someone also asked about the order. We really don't have any District-based pattern; we've chosen 8 tributes for pre-reapings, 8 for reapings, and 8 for train rides.**

 _ **A/N And I'm so sorry for the delay! It was entirely my fault. I got the flu and couldn't even move let alone write a story. I only hope you're not that angry with me...**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Three**_

* * *

 ** _Graan Sepere, District Nine Male Citizen, 18 Years Old_**

 _Four days before the Reaping_

 _Rrrrriiiiinnnnngggg!_

The bell rings, marking the end of the school day and the beginning of the work day. I quickly pack up my books and leave the school building. When I step out of the school, I see that my friend Orion is already waiting outside.

"Hey," he calls, walking over, "What's up?"

"Pretty good. How do you always get here so fast? The bell rang like a minute ago."

"It's not that hard. I just don't linger like you do."

I look up at the bright blue sky. "Man, it's hot today. We should be getting to work."

"Yeah, we should."

As we walk, I take in the beautiful day. The fields of grain are waving in the breeze, golden against the blue cloudless sky. I notice a group of girls whispering and pointing in this direction. I look over my shoulder, try to see what they're staring at.

"What," Orion says.

"Just trying to see what everyone else is looking at."

He laughs. "They're looking at you!"

"Why me?"

"I've told you this a million times! Everyone's always looking at you!"

"And I still deny it," I say, watching him laugh, "There's no reason for me to be the center of attention!"

"But you are. Don't be so oblivious. Have you seen the way the girls look at you?"

"No," I say, rubbing my neck.

"Well they always do."

"Sure?"

"Yes."

We continue walking, and soon, the office, where we check in, comes into sight. It's a drab building, surrounded by large fields of grain on all sides.

"Bet I can beat you to the office," Orion says, a mischievous grin on his face.

"How much?"

"Umm... Five dollars? I'd bet more, but I need the money."

"You're on."

I crouch, preparing to sprint.

"3…2…1…" he says, "Go!"

I press forward, running as fast as I can, focusing on the target. Dust from the dry ground flies into the air. The building rapidly grows larger. Almost there… almost there… Just when I think I'm about to win, he zooms ahead.

"Beat you – again," he says, grinning.

"You were always faster," I say, smiling, "I know I have a few dollars in my bag… aha. Got it." I hand over the money with a flourish. "Five dollars."

We go inside to check in. My dad, the manager, sits inside, working at paperwork. When we open the door, he looks up.

"G'day, Mr. Sepere," Orion says, "How's it going?"

"It's fine, thank you. It's been dry, so be careful."

"We will," we say. We sign in, pick up our tools, and leave the building. Today, we're cutting the barley. Others will come behind us to pick up the barley. We talk as we work.

"So the Games are coming soon," Orion says. A cloud seems to cover everything at the word "Games."

"Yeah. You worried?"

"Just a bit," he says, "Are you?"

"I should be fine. I have how many slips? 7? I've never taken out tesserae."

"You're right, but it's still worrying. Are you sponsoring again this year?"

"Yep. I'm going to do that every year."

"You know," he says, "That bit you have isn't much."

"I know, but if I were Reaped, I'd want to know that people at home were supporting me. So I try to support the tributes every year."

"True, true."

We work silently for a bit longer. All of a sudden, I think I smell… smoke. I stand up straight and look around. There, on the other end of the field, a small pluke of smoke is rising. Oh no, oh no, oh no.

"Let's go," Orion says, "You know what we need to do. Graan. Graan! Get yourself under control. You're shaking."

"I- I'm fine. Yeah, yeah, let's go."

Orion begins to holler and yell, telling everyone to leave the field. It's a fire. Images of a charred body float through my head. No, no. Get yourself under control, Graan, get yourself under control. I pinch myself to bring myself back to reality.

I stand up straight and shout, "Turn on the irrigation. I'll turn the water on on this side. Orion, you get the other."

I run through the field, the stalks of grain snapping and brushing against my bare legs. I'm ruining some of it, but if the fire isn't put out, we'll lose everything. I grasp the knob in my hand and turn as hard as I can. Water begins to shoot out from the sprinkler heads in the ground, spraying everything and everyone with water. Slowly, the fire dies down before it eventually disappears. I walk to the burnt area to survey the damage. When I get there, my foot hits a large chunk of wood, glistening with an oily liquid. Gasoline. Someone did this on purpose.

"What did you find?" Orion says, coming up behind me.

"Look," I say, pointing to it. He sighs.

"This isn't an isolated case. Yesterday, there was another fire on the other side of the town. It burned down everything."

"I know."

"Who do you think did this?"

"I dunno. Those troublemakers from school? No idea."

"At least we saved half of the barley," he says, looking around at the grain still standing. It contrasts with the black, charred remains of the scorched barley.

"Yeah, we should get back to work."

* * *

 **Quinoa 'Quin' Farro, District Nine Female Citizen, 18 Years Old**

 _Four days before the Reaping._

The classroom is awfully quiet today. The teacher didn't even enter the room yet and still, no one laughs, no one attempts to crack a joke, no one makes conversation with their desk mates. I frown as I look around. The atmosphere is too sober for my liking. Something was up today, I could feel it. And not just because Reaping Day was nearing.

The room slowly begins to fill. As I muse over the behavior of my class, I hear someone dropping their books on the desk behind me forcefully. I turn around, and smile at the fair-haired boy.

„Hey, Glen!"

„Hey, Quin!" He flashes me a smile and sits down. It is so refreshing to see someone in such a good mood. „Hey, what's wrong?"

„What do you mean?"

„You are scowling."

„Oh..." It does not surprise me that he noticed. Glen is not only my best friend, but my cousin too. I've known him ever since I was born. Our friendship has deep roots, we know each others habits, preferences, and we notice with ease if something is bothering the other. „Haven't you noticed? Everyone is acting rather strange today."

Glen raises an eyebrow at my statement, and looks around himself. „Oh, that? It's nothing, really. We are going to have an inspection. From what I've heard, the Mayor himself is going to-"

 _SLAM!_

The door slams against the wall. Everyone turns their heads to the front, as Mr. Wheat enters the classroom, with an other person close on his tail. The Mayor. We instantly stand up, greeting the two men.

Without the teacher noticing, I turn towards Glen, and whisper: „ _Was I the only one who didn't know about this!?"_

* * *

I stretch my arms above my head. The first class wasn't so bad after all. Nor were the other six following after. The presence of the Mayor didn't make any difference, really. Mr. Wheat was just as strict as usual. After the third period, seeing that there was nothing to be afraid of, my classmates started to regain their ability to laugh. By the end of the seventh period, we were just as loud as always.

„What a day!" I grin as I gather my books and notebooks. Glen just laughs and winks at me. He purposefully didn't tell me about the Mayor's visit. „It's not funny!"

„Yes, it is. You should've seen your face! _Was I the only one who didn't know about this!?_ " he says, unsuccessfully imitating my voice.

„Stop that!"

„Nope."

„Stop!"

„Nope."

„Okay, now this is getting ridiculous..." I sigh , giving up.

I grab my belongings and shaking my head, I exit the classroom leaving him by himself. Even as I walk down the hall, I can still hear his roaring laugh.

It bothers me. No, it annoys me. Why did he do that? Making me feel like a fool, totally left out... Just because I simply didn't know about the Mayor's visit. Normally, we would fool other people together. It's our hobby. But God, messing with your own partner in crime? That's just not right!

As I'm fuming over Glen's actions, I storm down the road towards my home. I don't really watch where I'm going, so it's no surprise when I bump into someone.

„Huh!" The girl stumbles backwards, but doesn't fall.

„Sorry." When I look at the 16 years old, I immediately recognize her as Maize. She works part time in my family's industry.

We, the Farro, do not work as simple croppers or sowers. We specialize in something much different. My family owns the largest Whiskey distillery in the district. Some of the citizens despise what we do. Maybe because we don't stuck with the district's main industry. But others simply accept that we are different, and even ask for part-time jobs. And Maize was one of the latter.

„Oh. Maize, it's you."

„Hello, Quinoa."

„What are you doing here?" I raise an eyebrow.

„I was actually looking for you."

„For me?"

„Yes. Your parents summoned a meeting. All of the workers must attend. They sent me to get you and Glen."

I stare at her for a couple of moments, before I blurt out: „Don't worry, I'll announce him. Just go back, and tell them that we are going to be there in a couple of minutes."

Maize nods her head, and walks away hurriedly. The moment she disappears from my field of vision, a smirk cracks on my lips.

You know the saying: An eye for an eye.  
Well, in this case: _A concealed information for a concealed information._

* * *

 ** _Questions:_**

 **What do you think of Graan? How much of a contender do you think he is?**

 **What do you think of Quin and her "An eye for an eye." philosophy?**

 **Which do you like better? Why?**


	7. Chapter Four

**Bold -** Joseph

 _ **Bold and Italic -**_ Ratty

* * *

 **A/N Hello Everyone. Here are our last pre-reapings! Next chapter will be a reaping chapter.**

 _ **A/N Oh, and Merry Christmas! :)**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter Four**_

* * *

 ** _Ember Cowden, District Twelve Female Citizen, 16 Years Old_**

 _Four days before the Reaping_.

A small sigh escapes from my mouth as I lay motionlessly in my bed. I don't dare to move. The pain in my left leg is literally killing me. With each breath I take, another wave of pain shoots through my small body. Every time I move ever so slightly, I can hear my blood throbbing in my ears. The minutes are passing by slowly, and I don't know how much longer I will resist.

Pressing my lips into a thin line, I stare at my parents rushing in and out of my small room. My mother mumbles under her breath as she gathers a couple of somewhat clean cloths in a hurry. My father tries to help her, but fails miserably as he can not tear his eyes off of my wounded limb. Mother finally sits down beside me, pressing the rags against my thigh without a warning. I hiss in pain as the warm liquid starts to paint the white piece of clothing a dark shade of red. A sour, metallic smell hits my nose. Blood.

"Oh, God..." I hear my father whisper, leaning against the door frame.

"Aadyan left the house quite a while ago. He and Mrs. Everdeen should be here any minute now. Haden, why don't you go and take a look outside?" My mother turns her head slightly in the direction of the door, her blue eyes never leaving my bloody wound. Father nods and disappeared from my sight a second later.

I bite the inside of my cheek hard as the pressure bandage is changed and frown because of the sour smell of my blood.

"Sh... Everything is going to be okay. You'll see." My mother strokes my sweaty hair, combing it gently. I open my eyes and look in her eyes, managing a small smile despite my torment.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry to bother you." She presses a finger on my lips and smiles kindly.

"Don't talk. Just rest for a bit, okay?" I nod once, realizing just how weak I am. How much blood I've lost and how I am about to lose my conscience. How close I am to death…

I still don't understand how something like this could happen. I was just going to make dinner for my parents and brother; Aadyan. I slipped on the wet floor and tried desperately to grab at something; I knocked over the table and fell on my bottom. Before I even realized what was happening, I felt a sharp pain in my left thigh; that's when I saw the sharp kitchen knife and the pool of blood that started to form.

I sigh. I'm the most clumsy and unlucky person in Panem.

"How much longer?" I ask shifting slightly in the bloodstained sheets. My mother smiles at me weakly and opens her mouth as if to say something. My eyes widen as I realize I can not hear a single word. Suddenly, my vision begins to fade. I panic, trying to focus on her sitting form with no success. My mother seems to realize what is happening as she stands up abruptly, yelling in the direction of the door.

My father storms into the room with my older brother and Mrs. Everdeen close behind. With my vision almost completely faded, I feel myself open my mouth and mumble.

Then I know no more.

* * *

Two day later I'm already up and doing my chores like usual.

While I was unconscious, Mrs. Everdeen cleaned the wound and closed it with a couple of stitches, then bandaged it carefully. It was a messy process, as when I woke up an hour later, all of my sheets were covered with dry blood. Before she left, the middle aged woman recommended two days of rest for me; and even after that, to be extremely careful with the injury (she said the wound start bleeding again if I'm not cautious) and to watch out for any infections.

It was so good to know that I had no sever injuries.

Now, as I walk into the kitchen I am greeted by a very fascinating sight. My brother cooking. I stare at him with my mouth agape. Aadyan Cowden never cooks.

"Close your mouth, you look stupid." Aadyan smirks at me while cutting the goat meat in equiform pieces. His hand move so naturally like he was born doing it.

I shut my mouth sheepishly, and slowly make my way towards him. It became hard to walk. Because of the wound and bandages I'm slightly limping; a thing which caught Aadyan's eyes easily.

"How is your leg?"

"Eh, fine. At least it's healing now." He nods at my words.

I stop beside him and look for something I can help with. I reach for a small kitchen knife, but my brother grabs my wrist gently. I look at him with raised eyebrows.

"Hey, don't give me that look. We don't want accidents to happen again." I smile at him and decide to let him be.

Sitting down on a chair, I say:

"I never knew you could cook."

"There are a lot of thing you don't know about me, sister." He grins widely then adds with a more mischievous ton. "Did you know that when I was your age, I wanted to volunteer for the Hunger Games?"

"Don't even joke with something like that!" I cross my arms, giving him a dirty look. Aadyan bursts out laughing, like it was the most hilarious joke ever.

I sigh, shaking my head.

Then I remember something crucial: The Reapings are going to be in only two days. In two days, the whole district will gather together to watch as one girl and boy will be chosen to compete in a deadly 'game'. And I'm one of those poor females whom are eligible.

As I remember this, I start shaking with fear.

* * *

 ** _Talon Coactus, District Ten Male Citizen, 18 Years Old_**

 _Two days before the Reaping._

I open my eyes, and I realize that I'm lying on the edge of my wood bed. I roll into the center before I sit up. I climb out of it and carefully arrange the blanket, carefully centering it. I look around at my little shack. It's not much, but it's perfectly lined up. The walls meet the ground at exactly 90 degrees, I made sure of that. The peak in the ceiling is exactly in the middle. It's dusty and dirty though, and that isn't matched up. Argh. I wash my face and comb my hair, making sure that it looks just right. When I see my face in the dirty (augh!) mirror, I'm reminded that I'm 5 feet 10 and 1/8 inches tall. Not a round number. I look away before it gets to me.

I step outside into the cool morning air. I have enough time for a run before work, I think. I check back inside and see that I have exactly one hour and a half before I have to be at work. Ninety minutes. A nice round number. I start off slowly down the road going left. Outside one of the houses, a small girl is playing with her father. When he sees me, he takes the girl and brings her inside. They don't want to get to me. They think I'm dangerous. I think I am. And I hate it.

I make a loop back to my house. Now I have to do the right side. I run down the rows of "houses," and I know that this is why I love running. I'm not held down. I feel almost… free, though I know that I'm anything but free. When I run, I can just let everything go for a few moments. As I get closer to my house again, I pass by a pothole in the road. I have to kick a stone into it. I squeeze my eyes and ignore that compulsion. As I enter my house, that thought becomes a roar, telling me to go back. I clench my first, grit my teeth… and go back. I kick the rock into the pothole, and that compulsion is satisfied.

I quickly make a little breakfast, and I carefully arrange the food on my plate. The bits of vegetables go on the right side. The meats go on the left side. I must eat from left to right. After I finish, I wash the dishes, carefully to only scrub clockwise. I put on a black shirt and jeans and head out for work, kicking another rock into the pothole as I pass by. Birds are flying overhead. I hate birds. They're unorganized and random, always putting things out of order. Their droppings aren't even uniform in color.

When I reach the building, I enter through the back door, centering my feet in the doorstep before opening the door. I quickly get on my job, which is to sort old metal bits, such as nails, bolts, and the such, into different bins to be reused. I like this job. It helps keep me stable. Placing everything into it's spot make me feel right. It helps keep out the impulses.

I hear footsteps behind me.

"Oh hey, Talon," a female voice says. Lila. My extremely outgoing coworker. "How've you been?"

I think about it. What word is just perfect… "Almost everything is normal."

"Oh? What's not normal?"

"Some things change everyday. There is no normal."

"I guess that's true," she says, looking at me strangely. It's like she's trying to figure me out. She's always trying to figure me out. I wonder she'd still be this nice to me if she knew what I've done. "Well, it's nice to see you. I'll see you later!"

She used the word "see you" in two consecutive short sentences. Something about that doesn't feel right. That urge in me begins to build up again, and I try to fight it before it begins to show me things. It's too late.

I see myself taking the rope. There's Lila. It's quick and smooth. No blood or fluids are involved. Suffocation is clean. I shake my head, but it doesn't clear. It never does. The numbers.

"Two, Zero, Four, Eight, Six, Three," I mutter. "Two, Zero, Four, Eight, Six, Three."

I repeat the numbers until the picture goes away. Just forget what happened. Just forget. Deep inside, I know I won't forget. It'll just keep coming back until the only way to remove it is to do it. Now it's a matter of time. I know it is; this is how it happened with the man and the others. I don't even know their names, but I still remember their faces. They say it gets easier after the first one. In some ways it has. Other people don't have the same look on their face while dying as your own parents. But the regret doesn't. That only gets worse. I could fight, but fighting is useless. I'd tear myself apart if I tried. I don't want any of this.

But it does.

I get up. I've finished this crate, and I go into the huge storage room to get another one. It's dark in the storage room. I like darkness. It's even. Light is messy and complicated. In the dark, everything looks the same. Almost perfect. I pick up another box and bring it back to where I work.

After another box or two, its time for a short lunch. I take out my perfectly made sandwich and sit in the corner. As hard as I try not to, I overhear people talking.

"The Reapin's in a few days. You worried about anybody?"

The reaping. I wonder what'd happen if I got Reaped. Would killing be different? I doubt it; I'm pretty sure guilt is a universal thing. Maybe I deserve to be Reaped. Better me than someone who has a place in society. No one would care if I got Reaped; everyone would probably be happy because no one likes me. No one wants to be around someone suspected of murder. It'd probably be best that way. It would be better for the District that way.

It might even be better for me that way.

* * *

 _ **Questions:**_

 ** _How long is Ember going to last with an injured leg?_**

 _ **What do you think has happened to Talon? What do you think about it?**_

 _ **Which do you like better? Why?**_


	8. Chapter Five

**Bold -** Joseph

 ** _Bold and Italic -_** Ratty

* * *

 ** _A/N Finally, the reapings are here! I can't wait to see all these awesome characters kill... I mean interact with eachother! From now on, the chapters might be longer because of the incredible boost of inspiration I have at the moment. :)_**

 **A/N I'm so sorry for the late update! It's completely my fault; I took up too many things at once and didn't have time. Enjoy!**

* * *

 ** _Chapter Five_**

* * *

 ** _Drusa Predator, District Two Female Citizen, 18 Years Old_**

 _Reaping Day._

A low growl escapes from my throat as I glare at the girl in the mirror. A person of an average height and weight (for a District Two citizen, at least); with big brown eyes, full lips, and shoulder length hair. One could say she is beautiful. But her dress! It is a disaster. With its hideous floral pattern and bright colors, it makes the girl look like a 12 years old child.

And unfortunately, that girl is me.

"I'm not going to wear this in public," I state, crossing my arms across my chest; my expression cold as I stare the petite woman in the eyes.

"But…But Drusa!" My mother stutters in panic.

"No." I raise a finger. "I don't want to hear it. This year is way too important for me. I finally made it into the Top 10; I am allowed to Volunteer. No one will take me seriously if I'm going to do so in this… _dress."_

She presses her lips into a thin line before helping me out of the colorful clothing. Once it is out of my sight, I start looking for a _normal_ dress among my clothes. But no matter how long I dig, I can't seem to find a suitable one. I shake my head.

From the corner of my eyes I see my mother holding her floral hideosity close to her chest. Tears start welling up in her eyes, at which I roll my eyes.

"Could you ask Valeria to come over?" I ask, mentioning towards the door. She nods curtly and hurries out of my room. I sigh inwardly. That's why she never got the chance to Volunteer. She is too emotional and week. It's a surprise that father even proposed to her…

Without any kind of warnings; my door suddenly opens and in comes my dear sister: Valeria. She has a goofy grin plastered across her face; her eyes are wide with anticipation. I knew this day would come, but I never expected it to be so soon.

"Oh, my, if it isn't the big and tough Drusa asking for her older sibling's help! Don't worry, I'll do whatever I can to help my favorite sister." She hugged my tightly, completely oblivious to the fact that I'm half-naked. I roll my eyes. That's why I don't like to ask her any kind of favors.

"I'm your _only_ sister."

"All the more reason to help you!" Valeria squeaks and drags me out of my room and down the hallway. With my free hand I try to cover myself as we pass by my father and brother, Tertius. They are already in their Reaping outfits. This only makes me more edgy.

The moment we enter Valeria's room, she begins her search for a decent dress. I wait patiently in the background, but she takes awfully long. After five minutes I begin to shiver. It's not exactly warm in here, plus I've been topless for a good 20 minutes now.

"Got it!" She turns around happily, holding in her hands a simple black dress. It's nothing complex, but serves the case. And I won't look like a 12 years old. "Oh, or maybe this one; its pattern is so nice, I really liked it when I was your age. Or this blue one, or..." Valeria begins to pull out different dresses from her closet. All of them have or an unbearable color or an insupportable pattern. I growl for the second time today, and snatch the black one from her hands.

"We are not playing dress-up." She only laughs at my behavior.

As I'm getting dressed, she offers to do my hair, but I decline.

"My hair is good as it is..." I stop as I look at myself in the mirror. This outfit is way better then the one my mother suggested. "But could you lend me a pair of shoes?" Valeria smirks at me, but before she could say anything I raise my hand. "Forget I asked."

I comb my hair with my fingers in silence, but the look Valeria is giving me makes me uneasy. I try to ignore it but as the minutes pass by, it starts to get more and more on my nerves.

"What?" Suddenly, I turn around. Valeria just blinks at me for a couple of seconds, then sighs.

"I was just thinking... I know that you hate those kind of clothes, but was it really necessary to talk with mom in such a manner?" She looks at me with tired eyes. I raise an eyebrow but say nothing. "You do know that she was saving for months to buy it for your last Reaping. She was so excited this morning... You really hurt her."

"Whatever," I sigh. "That is her own fault. She is my mother, she should know me better then that." Valeria shakes her head.

I frown and am about to give her a piece of my mind, but a loud knock on the door cut me short. I shut my mouth and Valeria opens the door. My father stands in the doorway looking at us expectantly.

"Ready?"

"Yeah." We nod in unison.

I look in the mirror for the last time, making sure that I look good enough, then follow after my sister. My mother and little brother are already standing by the front door. Tertius gives me a small smile and I smile back. Looking at my mother I notice her eyes are slightly red, a sign that she was crying before. I shake my head inwardly.

Together me, my parents, my siblings leave the house and make our way towards the Town Square. It is silence. For which I'm glad for once. I have time to organize my thoughts.

There are nine other females whom are qualified. I'm 99% sure that each one of them will arrive early, just like myself. I need to make sure I stand as close to the podium as possible. The distance between yourself and the escort can be crucial at times like these. And also, after the female Tribute is Reaped I need to yell as fast and loud as possible, then...

"Viktor Predator! Fancy seeing you here this early in the morning!"

My train of thoughts is abruptly stopped by a nerve-racking voice of a male. I snap my head in his direction only to come face to face with the one and only Cassian Bronze; my father's childhood friend. He steps in front of us, with his arms wide open as if awaiting a hug.

"Well, we need to be on time to see my dear daughter's success." Father smirks proudly, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"I wish you good luck, young lady." He murmurs with a wide smile. Then him and my father start discussing some trivial things at which I don't really pay attention.

I've known Cassian for what feels like forever. Him and my father are good friends and he is a really nice person, but his formal behavior always gets on my nerves.

But that's not why I'm here for. I'm here to be the first one on that podium. I'm here to volunteer. I say my quick goodbyes to my family (knowing well, that I'll have an other chance to do it properly later) and dash towards the check-in point with my little brother.

Once we are registered, we take our separate ways and I walk in the direction of the girls' 18 years old section. I try to stand more towards the verge and front. It's such a luck that the older ones are standing in the front and the younger children in the back. It saves us time.

As I find a good enough spot, I notice that the other qualified girls are already here. One of them, Hera Vanadius if I remember correctly, is standing right beside me but the others are behind me with a couple of row. So right now, Hera is my only competition. I smirk. I've seen her during training; I'm definitely faster then her. I have the odds in my favor.

I glance in the direction of my brother, out of pure curiosity. He is standing there with his friends. Good. I also notice that the qualified boys are already here as well. Nero Dean, Hadrian Maximus... They are all here. I notice the Mayor's son, Alabastor Prime, is staring at the Town Hall with determination written all over his face. I wonder which one of them will volunteer first...

Minutes pass by and finally the Mayor comes up to the stage. He reads out aloud the same text as last year about the history of Panem. I know the story like the back of my hand, so I take advantage of the few minutes he speaks and clear my head. The only thing that matters now is my timing. I need to be the first one to get to the podium!

As the Mayor introduces the escort, Alba Aquamarine, I stare up at them with hard eyes. The young capitolite then walks up to the girls' bowl, takes off her pure white gloves and with her perfect manicure, she reaches for the first split of paper that comes into her sight. She steps in front of the microphone and clears her throat.

"Leto Ambrosia!"

A girl from the 17 year old's section steps forward. She walks up to the escort calmly. My muscles are tense with anticipation as Alba asks if there are any Volunteers.

"I volunteer as Tribute!" I yell as fast and loud as I can. Beside me Hera raises her hand a minute too late, because I'm already dashing towards the escort. All the cameras are directed towards me. As I see myself on the big screens from every possible angle; I can't help but smirk.

I take the steps in a very unladylike manner; my dress bouncing up and down as I jump up on the podium. I wouldn't be surprised if the cameras saw my underwear and the whole Capitol is now munching on the images. But right now, I couldn't care less.

The girl, Leto, rushes past me, back to her initial spot in the crowd as I walk up to Alba.

"Oh, it seems we have a Volunteer here!" She chirps eagerly. "And you are?"

A ghost of a smile appears at the corner of my lips.

"Drusa Predator," I declare proudly, looking directly in the closest camera. I did it! I am District Two's female tribute! I search for my family in the crowd, and once I spot them, they start to cheer my name.

Alba then proceeds to the other bowl with an idiotic grin. I wait patiently as she takes her time. Finally, she raises a single slip of paper in the air. She walks back to stand beside me, then she announces the name.

"Achilles Stone." A boy from the 14 years old section makes his way towards us. And just like before, Alba asks if there are any Volunteers. More then enough hands shoot up in the air. I find it really amusing as two boys race up to us. One of them bumps into a Peacekeeper; so the first one to reach us is none other then Alabastor Prime.

"Alabastor Prime," He states and does just like me only a few minutes ago.

The escort mentions with her hands between us. I look in Alabaster's eyes as I raise my hand. ' _What a spoiled little brat...'_ I think as we shake hands. He looks at me with a mixture of emotions. Determination, happiness, eagerness... But of course, the cameras only catch what is most important: his seriousness. I frown inwardly.

After that, we make our way into the Town Hall; away from the peering eyes of the Capitol. Once the big, metallic doors close behind us, I smirk at the 18 years old beside me.

"Good job, Pretty Boy. Getting qualified was way too easy this year, huh? Especially for the Mayor's son..."

Alabastor's head snaps in my direction, but ignoring him, I follow one of the Peacekeepers down the wide hallways of the Town Hall. Out of all people, why does my district partner have to be the Prime kid? Oh, I really do hope that Pretty Boy won't set us back during the games. ' _Pretty Boy... Hm, I think I'll stick with this nickname..."_

The Peacekeeper leads me in a small room with white walls and small windows. If it wasn't for the expensive crimson red furniture, I'd think I'm in a prison cell. I wait a couple of minutes before the wooden door opens. My father steps in smiling happily, followed my my mother and two siblings.

"Five minutes," The Peacekeeper announces and closes the door behind them.

"Drusa!" My father immediately captures me in his hands. "You did it, I'm so proud of you!"

"Me too!" Tertius chirps "You were so cool out there!"

"Yeah, but there was no need to show the crowd your underwear..." I glare at my sister, but my blood still rushes to my head. "Now, don't be shy. I bet you're going to get a lot of sponsors." I roll my eyes, but Valeria grins even wider then before.

I look at my mother, who is standing silently by the door. Come to think of it, she was unusually quiet the whole day.

"Now, now Bellona... Say something to your daughter!" Father puts his arm around my should.

She smiles weakly.

"Stay alive."

At those words father starts to laugh hysterically, saying something between the lines of: "Of course she will!" and "She's my daughter after all!"

Suddenly, the door opens and the Peacekeeper declares that our time is over. I hug my siblings and mother briefly, then I turn in the direction of my father. He grabs my shoulders and stares deeply in my eyes.

"Hunt them down and show no mercy. Like a true _predator_!" I'm a little taken aback by his serious tone, but smirk at his words.

"Of course."

With that, he is pushed out of the small room, and I'm left in complete silence.

* * *

 _ **Ansel Gwilym, District Four Male Citizen, 17 Years Old**_

 _Reaping Day._

I feel someone cheering and my blankets being thrown off of me. I open my eyes and then close them again because of the piercing bright light.

"Too… bright…" I mumble, "What time is it?"

"It's time for you to get up," my sister Brenda says, "Mom and Kylie are making breakfast."

"Wait... What?"

"It's Reaping Day! Or, Volunteering Day for you!"

I stretch and sit up. "Oh, right."

"C'mon, hurry up. Don't make all of us wait," she calls as she leaves the room.

It suddenly hits me. Reaping Day. The day I've been waiting for. Ever since I was announced as the chosen volunteer, everything's been a blur. Both of my sisters weren't picked. My parents weren't picked. But I was. I quickly wash my face and almost fly down the creaky wooden stairs. I probably shouldn't, considering how rickety they are. But once I'm Victor, we won't need to worry about that. Everything will be perfect. I walk into the kitchen, where I'm immediately mobbed by my family. My mom wraps me in a huge hug. My dad pats me on the back, telling me how proud he is of me. Even Ricky, my dog, seems to know that's it's a special occasion. He runs around us, looking up at me.

"Hey, aren't we eating breakfast?" I say, smiling.

My mom laughs and begins to place the food on the table. We haven't had so much in a while, but with me volunteering, today is a special occasion. I look at all the vegetables and fish, and for once, I feel truly happy. The sun shining in through the windows makes everything feel bright and cheery, and the delicious smells makes home feel homier…. even though I'm pretty sure that's not a word.

Soon, breakfast is over, and I take Ricky out for a run. I begin at a moderate pace, but he seems to want speed.

"That's what you want?" I say, "Then let's go."

I run by the ocean, the huge blue waves crashing down upon our shore. I smell the salty air, and the breeze blows my hair everywhere. There's not a care in the world. I pity those other districts 'cause we're the only ones that get to know the feeling of the wind in your hair and clothes, the beautiful rolling ocean, and the wonderful pungent smell of fish. I love it all, especially when I run.

Ricky goes barking after a bird, but I rest assured. He's never caught one, so I won't have to stop him. Sure, I'd kill tributes, but I'd rather not kill animals if I don't have to. When you kill a tribute, it's your duty. It's your duty to the Capitol, and it's your duty to your family. But animals? Why put them through anything they don't have to go through? I guess I might think differently if I lived in Ten, but I'm in Four. I continue jogging. Ricky will catch up once he sees I've moved on.

I get home, and I quickly go upstairs to take a shower and change into something nicer for the reapings. I first put on a blue dress shirt, and then khakis and a belt. Finally, I take my shark tooth necklace off my bedside table and put it around my neck. This'll be my token, my way of remembering home.

Before I'm out the door, I hear the doorbell ring.

"I'll get it," I call. When I open the door, I see Edgar standing outside, smiling.

"Congratulations!" he says, "How's it going today?"

"I can't wait," I say, "I can't believe that this is actually happening."

"I know, right? I knew you'd make it. You've always been good at this stuff. I could never do it."

"Hey, don't think that way. I'm sure you could've done it."

"Nah. Besides, I wouldn't want to. That would keep you from volunteering."

"True…"

"Anyway, it's about time for the 'Reaping.' "

"Yep," I say, "Let's go."

We begin to walk, and as we get closer to the Square, the streets start getting crowded. People of all ages are making their way to the center of the District. I feel a tap on the arm. When I turn around, I see a boy holding a notepad.

"Hi-" he stutters, "I- I wanted- I was- I was wondering if- if I could get your autograph?"

I smile. "Sure. What's your name?"

"A-Arlen. I'm 10."

"Okay, Arlen…. do you have a pen?" He gives me one out of his pocket. I quickly sign. "Here you go."

His entire face lights up. "Thank you!" He immediately runs off, looking for his friends.

"That was interesting," Edgar comments.

"Well, you'd better be prepared for more of that," I say, "I'm sure I'll be busy with autographs when I win the Games."

He laughs. "I'm sure you will."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Nope. Am I usually sarcastic?"

"True…" I say as I step in my section near the front.

We wait, and soon, the escort, Kleora, takes the stage. She's been here for over a decade, and she now a sweet, older escort that's known for her love of our district.

The mayor takes the stage and introduces her.

"Hello everyone! I am so very glad to be here in District Four once again to 'reap' your tributes for the 67th Annual Hunger Games! As always, we will have ladies first!"

She picks a slip out. I look over to the where the 17-year-olds are. Aquacea, the selected volunteer for the girls, stands ready to volunteer. I'm looking forward to working with her. She's straightforward and strong, and I've known her since I started training.

Kleora reads the name, though no one cares. "Jemima-"

"I VOLUNTEER."

What? That wasn't Aquacea. She looks around too, before trying to save herself by racing for the podium. Just as she's about to ascend it, another girl leaps up and stands beside Kleora, who is confused by the two volunteers. A murmur runs through the crowd. The strange girl clears her throat.

"I'm Elle McNamara, and I will be the tribute." Elle. Sounds familiar. Wasn't she… second place? Doesn't she respect our rules? What is she doing up there? A guy beside me nudges me, and I nod in thanks. Kleora is about to pick the boys.

"Pike-"

"I volunteer as tribute!" I shout, not wanting to take any chances. I can't miss this opportunity. Thankfully, no one challenges me, and I get to the stage without any problems.

"And you are…" Kleora says.

"Ansel Gwilym," I announce. "Excited to be here."

The mayor then takes the microphone, and he reads the Treaty of treason before thanking the Capitol. I'm taken into the Justice Building for my final visitations.

First in is my family. Kylee wraps me in a huge hug.

"I'm going to miss you," she says, "But I can't wait to see you on television. You'll miss so much, but we'll tell you all about it when we see you again."

My mom is speechless with joy, and my dad is silent because he's naturally quiet. Brenda slaps me on the back, and we joke and laugh until they have to go.

Edgar is in next.

"I can't believe you're finally here!" he says.

"I'm still in shock myself," I admit.

"You know, when the McNamara girl volunteered, I thought someone might try to take your slot."

"Yeah. That's why I couldn't take any chances. I've gone too far to lose it like this."

He slaps me on the back, and then he's gone. A few more kids come in for volunteers, but it's all a blur.

This is it.

This is what I've always wanted.

* * *

 ** _Questions:_**

 _ **Drusa has a rather ill opinion on her District Partner. Will it affect their teamwork? In what degree?**_

 _ **What do you think of Ansel's mindset? How will it help/hurt him in the Games?**_

 _ **Which do you like better? Why?**_


End file.
